After attritional cricket during which it was a toss-up whether the pitch or the England batting that would crack up first, Graeme Swann and James Anderson salvaged some respectability in the merriest of interludes. With thunder showers forecast for the final two days they also gave England a good chance of salvaging something from the match.

The pair added 106 in 24 overs, a record for the ninth England wicket against South Africa, helping their side to 356, a first-innings deficit of 62. It meant South Africa had four overs to bat and by stumps Anderson had removed Ashwell Prince in his first over, leaving them nine for one.

England were 242 for eight when the pair came together, the prospect of the follow-on – notional only in that South Africa would certainly have batted a second time, but a psychological barrier nonetheless – barely avoided and the second new ball burning a hole in the umpire's pocket. The game, for the innings, seemed up.

England had batted dourly but with determination, on a pitch that had produced some disturbing shooters, pinned down by the accuracy of the seam attack and, bewilderingly, the mesmerically ordinary slow left-arm of Paul Harris. Somehow, perhaps with the aid of smoke and mirrors, Harris had managed to take four wickets, and five in all, one of them Ian Bell, seduced into offering no stroke to a ball that took his off-stump.

Tailenders, though, pay no mind to reputation any more than bowlers do to them. The new ball came and went as Anderson, the most improved bottom-order batsman in the business, and Swann, who, lest we forget, was England's third-highest scorer in the Ashes series, set about it.

Makhaya Ntini failed to break through despite the urgings of the crowd who would have got free drinks if he managed it, and so, too, did Morne Morkel. Ntini was top-edged for six. The uneven bounce was conspicuous by its absence. Harris returned and was belted by Swann, who did not want his own figures as a more penetrative spinner usurped. A swivel pull fine to the leg-side boundary took Swann to his half-century from 47 deliveries and suddenly the picture looked rosier, the South Africans, cock-of-the-walk for much of the day, just a little more ragged.

Batting looked easy. Twice Swann took the Kevin Pietersen switch-hit out of the locker and produced boundaries: KP will be demanding royalties. The Barmy Army sprang into life. When Swann clipped Ntini precisely through midwicket, it brought up the century partnership, the first time that an England ninth-wicket pair had achieved this against South Africa and the lead was whittled down to manageable proportions.

It took a false stroke from Anderson, the ball from Ntini stopping slightly as he tried to drive on the up, and lobbing to mid‑off where Morkel dived forwards for the catch. But the stand had produced 106 and reduced the deficit to 70. By now Swann had reached 81 and wondering whether Graham Onions could show some of Anderson's fortitude and skill. Onions responded by pulling Ntini to the boundary. If only Swann had trusted him. Instead he heaved at Harris, and homed in on Hashim Amla at deep square-leg. What a brilliant riposte it had been, though, over little more than two hours and from 81 balls with 10 fours and two sixes.

The belligerent start given to the England innings on the second evening proved illusory. Ntini fired a warning shot in his first over when a delivery to Andrew Strauss scuttled insidiously low. Suddenly, the pitch had demons, the ball waiting to dart off cracks in the surface. Ntini clinched it when he torpedoed the England captain, leaving England's pair of South African expats to grind out a stand that took an eternity for little reward.

Pietersen reasoned that the danger came not from catches but from straight deliveries and got himself yards down the pitch to counter. South Africa helped by channelling outside off‑stump rather than straight. But Jonathan Trott had become strokeless, held in check by the relentless line outside off‑stump, until finally he heaved at Harris and was bowled.

If never quite in touch, Pietersen batted diligently for almost two hours until he launched an off drive against Morkel and dragged on to his stumps. In so doing a fault in the use of technology appeared to have been exposed. Morkel had overstepped fractionally but had not been no‑balled and the third umpire has no remit to report this. If the technology is to be used to "eliminate glaring errors" then the least that can be done is to check that all wicket‑taking deliveries are legitimate.

If the situation was tailor-made for Paul Collingwood, England's answer to Red Adair, then it proved not so for either Bell or Matt Prior, each central to the argument about whom should bat at six. Neither helped the case for either camp.

Bell pottered around for a short while, looking neat and then, for reasons best known to himself, shouldered arms to Harris and was bowled. Now he, a former Warwickshire team-mate of Harris, would know that the bowler could not turn a bottle of milk sour: Godot would show up before he spun a delivery to any degree. It just made him look stupid.

Prior was no more successful, scratching around for three-quarters of an hour before heaving desperately to square-leg. Collingwood, meanwhile, had played cannily, using defence and attack judiciously, and reaching a half-century before Godot rang the doorbell next ball, spun one away and Jacques Kallis took the catch at slip.